


Chim Chim Cheree

by ZessOnATeaCloud



Category: Mary Poppins (1964), Mary Poppins - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: A Kiss, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternative Universe - Marry Poppins, Artist Gabriel (Supernatural), Cheeky Gabriel, Gabriel in Dick Van Dyke's role, Inspired by Music, London, M/M, Poor Gabriel, Rare Pairings, Rich Crowley, Song Chim-Chim-Cheree, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 12:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12342534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZessOnATeaCloud/pseuds/ZessOnATeaCloud
Summary: Everyday on hin way to work Crowley sees the same screever. One day he talks to him.





	Chim Chim Cheree

**Author's Note:**

> This is (as the title might suggest) inspired by Marry Poppins, specifically by the songs "Pavement Artist (Chim Chim Cheree)" and "Chim-Chim-Cheree". 
> 
> I googled for the correct lyrics as I only know them in German, but that movie is amazing no matter the language. The lyrics to the songs are in italic.
> 
> Not beta read.

Everyday on my way to work I walk through the town. It’s not a long way so I walk there. In town I always cross paths with the same man. Quite literally I cross his path.  
He’s a screever. He always sits somewhere else, everyday a new spot and it seems like I can’t escape him. It doesn’t matter which way I go the blond man always sits in my way and everyday he hums a song.

“Are you following me around?” I ask him one morning while again I stand on one of his works.  
“I could ask you t’same, sir”, he says looking up at me with a friendly face and this mischievous grin that never seems to leave him.  
“Can’t you scribble somewhere else?”  
“No Mister, _today I’m a screever and as you can see an screever, an artist o’ virtous’ degree_ and I draw wherever my feeling and my inspiration lead me to. _Where ever I go I am at home_ ”, he explains and continues to draw around my shoes.  
“You block the whole way with your ridiculous doodles, instead of finding a decent work and quit wasting time with this nonsense”, I comment his work deprecatingly but he doesn’t seem to care.  
“ _I does wha’ I likes an’ I likes what I do. I draws what I like an’ I like wha’ I drew_ ”, is his simple answer.  
I can’t come up with an answer for that. This man is a silly person and with this kind of people you just can’t talk.

On my way home he still sits at the same corner and he still draws.  
“Hard-working I see”, I taunt him.  
“Always Sir”, he confirms with a smile.  
People pass by and throw their pennys to him and I can’t help myself to turn my nose up at this.  
“ _No remuneration I ask o’ you but me cap would be clad of a copper or two_ ”, he jokes while I look up to the sky.  
“Your work was pointless it will rain this evening.”  
“No’ t’all Mister”, he says and then stands up. He collects his coins and puts his cap back on his head.

“Why on earth are you doing such nonsense?” I ask and have to follow him for my answer because he walks away.  
“ _Now as the ladder of life ‘as been strung you may think a sweep’s on the bottomest rung. Though I spends me time in ashes and smoke in this ‘ole wide world there’s no ‘appier bloke_ ” he tells me with an easy tone in his voice.  
“Ashes?” I wonder.  
“I’m a chimney sweep Sir”, he explains without hesitation.  
“Your parents must be extraordinarily proud of you” I taunt him again and he just laughs at that.  
“ _Up where the smoke is al billered and curled ‘tween pavement and stars is the chimney sweeps world. When the’s ‘ardly no day nor ‘ardly no night, there’s things ‘alf in shadow and ‘alf ways in light_ ” he tries to explain with a dreamy expression on his face, “ _On the roof tops of London… Coo, what a sight!_ ”  
With a cocked eyebrow I look skeptically at him and ask “Really?”

“ _When you’re with a sweep you’re in glad Company_ ” he looks at me and smiles.  
“This is my stop Mister” he adds when he stops and then he turns to stand in front of me.  
The bold man lays his chalk covered hand on my expensive black coat and claps me on my shoulder.  
“ _Good luck will rub off if he shakes hands with you or blow me a kiss and that’s lucky too_ ” and with this words he leans in and kisses my cheek.  
“To that we meet again soon Sir”, with this mischievous smirk of his on the lips and after a little bow to say goodbye he disappears in the streets of London.


End file.
